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The Oklahoma Kid
Was only seventeen years old,
When he took to robbing mail trains
Of their silver and their gold.
He was always quite polite about it,
Always had a smile,
And a ‘Please’ and a ‘Thank you'
Which was hard to reconcile
With the six gun that he held
Pointing firmly at the spot
That would bring an instant death
If you won’t give him what you’ve got.

His name was Peter Maxwell,
He was quite the bon viveur,
With a penchant for fine wines
From places like the Rhone and Rhur.
He would spend money quite freely,
And why not?…….It wasn’t his,
And he always had a winning way
With ladies he would kiss.
Such a handsome rogue as Peter
Melted many female hearts,
Though if truth be told the kid was gay
And thought them all just tarts.

On a late November evening
In the year of ‘88,
He was waiting at a junction,
But the train was running late.
It was then a ten man posse
Led by Sheriff Baines appeared,
Twas the nightmare situation
That the kid had often feared.
He was taken by a lynch mob
To the nearest tree in town,
Where the folks cried out the game was up,
But the Kid was never down.

The judge and jury townsfolk
Soon reached their verdict there,
‘Guilty as charged’, they shouted out
Then someone brought a chair,
And stood the Kid upon it
With his head stuck in a noose,
They tied the rope upon the tree
Then kicked the old chair loose;
And so it was the kid survived
To fight another day;
The rope it snapped, he hit the ground
And quickly ran away.